


Could (not) Have Gone Worse

by eiqhties



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cats, Embarrassment, Fluff, Fluff cats and pining was my prompt so, M/M, Pining, So many sci fi references, Veterinary Clinic, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiqhties/pseuds/eiqhties
Summary: A small, tortoiseshell cat has been stalking Niall for weeks, now.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flares/gifts).



> This is for the wonderful love of my life, [zot5](http://zot5.tumblr.com) as her birthday present. Alas, it's SUPER SUPER LATE, but I hope that she can forgive me! <3

A small, tortoiseshell cat has been stalking Niall for weeks, now.

Every morning, Niall comes out of his house - tiny, one bedroom, tucked away in the corner of the city - and she’s _there,_ sitting on his front garden wall. All big, cat eyes, and weird cat paws.

Niall doesn’t know why she’s chosen him to torment. He’s rubbish with animals; his cousin had asked him to look after his bearded dragon for a week, and Niall had spent the whole time forgetting about it and then feeling intensely guilty.

He only knows this cat is a female because he read a Dick King-Smith book as a kid - one of the Sophie stories. In that, she’d got a tortoiseshell cat, and it had been female. One of those weird genetic things that Niall ended up remembering. It won him a pub quiz, once.

“I always thought it was too good to be true that I never had to deal with the whole, ‘Crazy-ex-girlfriend’ thing,,” Niall tells the cat. “Stop fucking _stalking me_!”

The cat stares at him. Niall sighs, heavily. He regrets the last comment, feeling misogynistic and mean. Clearly, Harry’s rants about institutionalised misogyny and the negative impact of the patriarchy are finally starting to rub off on him.

This is definitely all the cat’s fault. Niall isn’t sure how, but she definitely planned this.

“See?” Niall says, bitterly, “You’re only causing me trouble. Piss off!” Niall hisses to the cat.

The cat, apparently, is yet to fully familiarise itself with the English language.

*

“Fuck off,” Niall says, upon seeing the cat outside his door. Again.

The cat blinks at him, slowly. Then, she meows.

Niall is not even slightly endeared.

“Fuck _off_ ,” He repeats, this time with emphasis - just in case it’s his tone that wasn’t driving home the point. The cat doesn’t move. Clearly, she is still yet to learn English.

_*_

_"Irse a la mierda_!” Niall tries the day after, in case the cat has managed to sneak to his house from Spain. He uses his hands, this time, in a _shoo_ motion to better punctuate that he wants the cat to _leave_.

The cat starts purring.

Niall resolves to try French.

*

“C _asse-toi_ ,” Niall says. The small cat just blinks at him, and then meows once. Previously, she had been lying down on the wall, but she now stands up, and pads her way over to where Niall is standing, glaring at her.

Softly, she butts her head against Niall’s stomach. Niall looks down at her, unimpressed.

Clearly, French is also a no-go.

“ _C’est des conneries_ ,” Niall mutters.

*

“Christ,” Louis says, when he sees her. “You really are going to die alone, mate. I mean, the cats are coming _to_ you, now. That’s how desperate you are”

“Thanks, Louis,” Niall says, “I’m so glad that when I call Liam, I get you instead.”

“No problem, Neil,” Louis sounds cheerful, “It’s my pleasure, as your oldest mate, to be of assistance. I heard that cat’s eat people’s faces when they die, you know.”

“ _Thanks_ , Louis,” Niall shoves him. Louis shoves him back, laughing. “You’re not even my oldest mate,” Niall mutters, grumpily. Louis sticks out his tongue.

“Oldest mate in England,” He says.

“I met you and Liam at the same time,” Niall tells him.

“Of course,” Louis nods. “But, Nialler, I think you’re forgetting that I am a whole _two years_ older than my boyfriend. Hence, I am your oldest mate.”

“Oh my god,” Niall says, “I am never asking you for help again.”

“Speaking of help, lad. Can cats imprint?” Louis asks, looking down at the cat, consideringly. His head is tilted slightly to the left, and the cat is watching him.

“What?”

Louis waves a hand in the air, “You know, like ducklings. They think the first person that they see is their mum. Maybe that’s what’s happened here. Niall, I think you’re this cat’s mother.”

Niall pulls a face at Louis. “I am not a cat’s _mother_.”

“Not yet,” Louis says, “But I’ve seen Doctor Who. Them cat people didn’t come from nowhere, yeah? I reckon it was you.”

“You have to stop using Doctor Who as the root of all your scientific knowledge.”

“I’m just saying, mate! For them cat people to exist in the future, someone had to start fucking cats. People were fucking _cats_ , Niall. And from my perspective, it looks like those people were you.”

“Am I the cat’s mother or the cat’s _fuck-buddy_?” Niall hisses. Louis waggles his eyebrows.

“I don’t know, mate. You always did like pussy more than me, innit?”

“Get away from me,” Niall tells him. “You are, like, the worst best friend I have ever had. I hate you. I didn’t even want you to come over. I wanted Liam. Please, _please_ leave my general vicinity. I call you over to help me with the cat that’s fucking _stalking me_ and you accuse me of beastiality.”

Louis shrugs, looking rather unperturbed. “What can I say? You love me, Neil,” He slings his arm around Niall’s shoulders, knocking the two of them together. Niall rolls his eyes and prays for the patience to not punch Louis in the eye.

“Don’t call me that,” He says.

“Don’t call you what, Neil?” Louis asks. Niall elbows him, right under his ribs. Louis flinches away, pulling a face. “C’mon, now. You’ve wounded me, mate. I come all the way over here to come see your new best friend and you reward me with _jabbing_ me.”

“I called you so that you could _help,_ ” Niall accuses. Louis shrugs.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, lad. Maybe the cat is sick, you know? She knows you’re a soft touch and reckons you’ll help her.”

“Piss off,” Niall mutters. “That cat isn’t sick, it’s a fucking _menace_.”

Both Niall and Louis turn to look at the cat, who’s still sitting on Niall’s wall. She blinks at them, slowly, and meows.

There is a possibility she’s a little thin.

Maybe. She’s a little scrawny. All bones, and thin bones, and -

“Oh my god,” Niall says, with dawning horror, “The cat is sick. I have a sick cat.”

“I was joking, mate,” Louis says, but he looks a little concerned himself. “Maybe. Um. Maybe cats are supposed to look like that?”

“You’re useless,” Niall says.

“I know,” Louis says, cheerfully. “She _is_ a bit small though, isn’t she?”

“I thought you just said cats were supposed to look like that?”

“Yeah, but I also said that you were going to fuck the cat. I thought we agreed that we weren’t listening to anything I say,” Louis replies, walking over to the tiny tortoiseshell thing and picking her up. She instantly curls up in his arms and starts purring. Louis looks delighted.

Niall sighs.

“I guess we’re going to the vets?” He asks.

Louis just grins.

*

The vets smells like a horrible combination of unwashed animal and sick people. Like a hospital, but worse.

Sick, unwashed animal.

“Shouldn’t you leave?” He tries to hint at Louis, who seems to be involved with some kind of staring competition with the chocolate brown labrador that’s sitting beside a woman in the seat across from them. “Seriously, Lou,” Niall kicks him in the ankle, “Don’t you have a boyfriend to get back to, or something? You know, the guy I actually called in the first place.”

Louis waves a hand at him, not looking away from the dog. “I texted him,” He says, “He says he’ll pick us up once we find out whether your cat is dying or not.”

“She’s not dying,” Niall says. He looks down at the tiny thing in his arms, and frowns. “She’s not my cat, either. I’ve been trying to get her to leave me alone for the past couple of _months_.”

Louis slaps him on the shoulder, “Great job you’re doing of it, lad,” He says, “Definitely doesn’t seem like she’s your cat at all.”

Niall opens his mouth to retort, but before he get’s a chance, a blonde woman appears in the doorway. “Mr Horan?” She says, mispronouncing Niall’s name. Niall thinks about correcting her, and then gives up. He’s used to it by now. “Doctor Malik’s ready to see you and your cat now.”

She smiles reassuringly at Niall. Her hair is scraped back so tight on her head that Niall can see the lines where the comb went. It should make her look severe, but her smile is so soft that she does look genuinely reassuring.

He smiles back at her.

Louis smiles as well. He’s definitely not reassuring.

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, as Niall stands up, cradling the skinny little nightmare in his arms. “She’s not yours at all, mate.”

Niall hates him. Niall hates the cat.

Niall is going to learn how to say ‘fuck off’ in every language in the world. Maybe some alien languages, as well. Gallifreyan.

Niall bets if he rewatches every single episode of Doctor Who, classic series included, at some point the Doctor will say “Fuck off” in Gallifreyan, and then Niall will be able to say it to the world.

*

The room that Doctor Malik supposedly practices in is up a small flight of thin stairs. The noise of the waiting room quiets, here - the sound of unhappy animals no longer so direct.

It makes Niall’s shoulders relax, a little. In his arms, the cat is purring. Her eyes are shut, and she’s a warm weight.

Niall peers down at her, frowning.

He’s not going to get attached. He’s _not_.

The blonde woman reaches a white door, pushing it open, “Doctor Malik is just in there,” She tells him. Niall nods, walking in front of the woman to get through the door As he passes, Niall reads that the name badge pinned neatly to her white coat reads, “ _MEGHAN_ ” He smiles.

Doctor Malik’s room is kind of small. Niall’s sort of preoccupied with how _Alien_ the massive metal table in the middle of the room looks, _Alien_ as in the 1979 film. Niall has been thinking about that film a lot, lately. Mainly because they just did a rerun of all of them on the _Syfy_ channel, but also because they’re really good.

Still, the table doesn’t look that good. Very isolation bay. Very blood and guts and gore. Though, really, the massive metal table just has a kind of science fiction _vibe_ to it. Cold and threatening.

Niall is panicking about having to put the ridiculously small cat down on top of something that looks like it could come to life and swallow her, when Louis elbows him painfully in the ribs.

Then he looks up and sees Doctor Malik.

Science fiction is totally believable, now. In fact, Niall is at least eighty percent sure that somehow, in the time between the waiting room and entering this office - he’s managed to cross some kind of Torchwood rift in space and time, and he’s in some kind of alternate dimension.

This is the only possible explanation for the ridiculously attractive guy standing in green scrubs behind the table.

“ _Damn_ ,” Louis’ breath tickles his ear, and Niall twitches away from it. “If I knew all vets looked like this, I would have got a pet _ages_ ago.”

Niall shoots him a look that hopefully conveys _you have a boyfriend called Liam_ and also _a boyfriend called Liam who owns two dogs_ in one go. From the way Louis seems blissfully unaware, he’s either being purposefully obtuse, or Niall still hasn’t figured out how to communicate effectively.

It’s probably the latter. After all, he’s still holding the fucking _cat_.

“Hey Mr. Horan,” Doctor Malik says, looking directly at Niall. His eyes are this lovely shade of brown, and he’s wearing round glasses that kind of make Niall think of Harry Potter. Even his _voice_ is attractive. Niall has probably died. And gone to heaven.

Cat heaven.

“So,” Doctor Malik goes on, “I assume this your cat?” When he asks the question, he smiles a little - the right side of his mouth lifting up a little. Niall is ready to collapse. Never mind helping the cat, _Niall_ is going to be the one who needs medical attention by the time this whole thing is over.

Then, Niall registers the question he was actually asked.

“Yes,” Louis says.

“No,” Niall says.

Doctor Malik blinks, looking taken aback. “Sorry,” He says, “I just assumed that you were Mr Horan, because you’re, um, holding the cat.”

Louis gives him a withering look. Sometimes Niall forgets that Louis is an older brother, and then he shoots him a look like _that_ and it’s impossible to forget.

“He is Mr Horan, he’s just in denial that he adopted a cat.”

“I’ve signed nothing,” Niall mutters. To his horror, Doctor Malik laughs.

When he laughs, the sides of his eyes crinkle up, and his tongue presses against the back of his teeth. Niall is probably going to be writing songs about his laugh from now until the end of the universe.

Which, according to science fiction and the wikipedia pages Niall has taken to reading late at night - definitely won’t happen for a long, long time. At least two billion years.

At _least_.

“From what I’ve gathered, cats can’t read that well, mate. Been trying to get mine into Harry Potter for years,” Doctor Malik says. “She’s definitely a slytherin, like. Crafty little thing. Been sneaking extra food and thinks I don’t notice.”

“Tell me about it,” Niall says. “English, French, Spanish. All a wash. I was gonna try German, next.”

Doctor Malik laughs again.

Louis, beside him, is giving him a look that normally means someone has just something particularly disgusting. Niall ignores him.

“You speak Spanish?” Doctor Malik asks. His eyes are very pretty.

“ _Sí_ ,” Niall says, grinning.

“Oh my _god,"_ Louis cuts in, rolling his eyes dramatically. Louis is probably the only person in the world who can be so dramatic just by moving his eyes. “I thought we came here to get not-your-cat checked out? You thought she was too skinny, _remember?_ ”

“Oh,” Niall says, “Um. Yeah.”

“Um, yeah,” Louis mocks.

“Well,” Doctor Malik says, smiling, “If you wanna, um, bring her over to the table, I’ll take a look at her. She’s a stray, then?”

Niall walks over to where Doctor Malik is standing, looking down at the table suspiciously. Niall has seen _Alien_ a ridiculous amount of times. He is highly suspicious of large, metal tables.

Doctor Malik is still smiling, seemingly unbothered by Niall’s hesitation. “Sorry,” Niall says, “Medical places give me the heebie-jeebies.”

The second the phrase ‘heebie-jeebies’ has left his mouth, Louis chokes on a laugh, and Niall shuts his eyes. Maybe the metal table being from _Alien_ would be a good thing. He could totally do with his stomach ripping open right now - it would distract from the fact that he wants to _die_.

Doctor Malik doesn’t seem put off. Instead, he laughs - his eyes crinkling up again. “It’s cool,” He says, “I get it, yeah? Don’t worry, though, really. Miss Ripley’s not allowed in my practice room. Your, um, sorry. That was, sort of. What I mean is, um. Not-Your-Cat is safe, really.”

Niall has found his soulmate. He is in _love_.

“Oh my god,” Louis says, because, “Did you just make an _Alien_ reference?”

Doctor Malik actually _flushes_. He awkwardly lifts his hand up and scratches the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah,” He looks sheepish. “They were rerunning them on Syfy the other week, innit? I love those films, so.”

“I love those films,” Niall blurts, “That rerun was one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Like, up there with Nasa’s twitter.”

Doctor Malik’s eyes go wide, “I _love_ NASA’s twitter,” He half whispers.

Niall’s bad knee is starting to feel weak. Either that, or he is genuinely _swooning_ right now.

“This is too good,” Louis says. “I am going to be using this as blackmail _forever_. To think, I thought that cat would make you forever alone, mate. I thought it was a sign that you’d finally cracked, and here you are, talking about aliens with Doctor fucking dreamy! Amazing.”

“Dreamy?” Doctor Malik asks.

“I still have those texts you sent me before Liam asked you out,” Niall interrupts, before Louis can go off on one and leave Niall feeling mortified and wishing the ground would swallow him up.

Louis, thankfully, falls silent.

Niall decides that he needs to end this meeting before Louis does something terrible - like show Doctor Malik those baby photographs his mum texted him. Why his mum decided to text Louis baby photographs of Niall, he doesn’t know. He still sometimes has nightmares about it.

“Anyway,” Niall says.

He puts the cat down on the metal table, right in the centre. She meows, indignantly, and swipes a paw out to catch her claws in Niall’s sleeve, trapping him close to her.

He glares down at her, “You fucking shit,” He says. It probably sounds a lot fonder than he’d like it to, because Doctor Malik laughs.

“Are you sure she’s not your cat?” He asks.

“ _Yes,_ ” Niall sighs.

“Niall’s the cat’s mum,” Louis tells Doctor Malik, cheerfully. “He imprinted on her. Like ducks, you know?”

“ _Texts,_ ” Niall whispers threateningly.

Louis shuts up again. Niall is never telling Louis that they got lost when he got a new phone. Those were some _really_ damning texts; so cliché Niall wouldn’t be shocked if the dialogue was somehow carbon copied from a terrible romance film. The sort that Harry loves, and Niall tolerates.

Reading them, it might even be possible to think that Louis emotes like a normal human.

Semi-normal.

Gently, Doctor Malik reaches out and unhooks each one of the cat’s claws from Niall’s hoodie. The cat meows again, but otherwise doesn’t protest. Niall watches as she circles around, pushing her head into Doctor Malik’s hand.

“Y’alright there, little cat?” he mumbles, softly to it. “Let’s get you all checked out, yeah?” The cat starts purring again.

Niall is the Grinch, the cat is Christmas: Niall’s heart has just grown three sizes. Niall is no longer sure that this cat isn’t his - because if the cat gives him an excuse to keep coming here and seeing Doctor Malik - Niall may be taking her home after all.

“I’m fucked,” He says, under his breath. Unfortunately - because Niall has worse luck than, quite possibly, _everyone else in the world_ , Louis hears him.

“Entirely,” He tells Niall - far too happy for the amount that Niall is suffering.

It is instantly clear that Niall is never going to live this down.

*

Niall leaves the vet with a relatively healthy, if slightly malnutritioned cat, a smug fucker of a best friend, and a distinct lack of any kind of cute veterinary doctor’s phone number.

“You were a mess,” Louis informs him, gleefully. Niall shoves him - one handed, so as not to topple the cat in his other arm.

“Piss off,” He says, grumpily.

Louis cackles, “Look at it this way, Niall. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”

*

Clearly, Niall thinks, three months later - when he’s woken up the fourth night in a row by a cat sitting on his face, it was not meant to be.

“Ugh,” Niall says.

The cat curls up beside his face.

*

“I have to go to work,” Niall is telling the cat, grumpily. She’s latched onto the hem of his jeans, and his meowing at full volume as he stands outside his front door, trying desperately to unattach the cat from him.

“Get off me,” He tries again. It’s to no avail. “ _F_ _aut que j'aille bosser, maintenant_ ,” He tries. The cat climbs up his leg and latches onto his thigh.

Clearly, they’re still working on French.

Niall is having a shitty morning. He was supposed to be off, but Harry called him at the arse-crack of dawn telling him that Leigh had the flu and he just _had_ to come in. Which would have been fine, but he’d ran out of milk so he hadn’t had coffee yet, and the cat had scratched the lense on his glasses, and, he’s pissed off.

All in all it’s been a bad morning.

The cat isn’t helping. She’s now clambered so far up him that she’s latched onto his back, leaving Niall to do some unusual kinds of contortion in an attempt to shake her off.

“Gerrof,” He says.

She does not.

“Begone!” He says, slightly louder. The cat resorts to kneading her claws into him and purring beside his ear. Niall has never regretted taking her home more than he does in this moment.

“Begone!” He says, even louder than the first time. She still, unfortunately, does not move.

“ _Begone foul Dwimmerlaik_!” He half yells.

Naturally, this is when he hears a snort of laughter from behind him. Niall stops. Someone definitely just heard him yell a _Lord of the Rings_ reference to a cat that’s sitting on his shoulder. Someone. A real person. Someone is laughing at him right now.

Niall shuts his eyes. Breathes in once, twice to calm down. Then, he whips around to see -

“Doctor Malik,” he half chokes out.

It’s official. Niall’s day cannot get any worse. No day could be any worse than the day Niall is having right now. He is having the worst day ever. Worst Day Ever, with capitals.

“Um, it’s like, Zayn,” Doctor Malik says, “Just call me Zayn.”

Niall wants to tell him that he can’t ‘just’ call him anything. In fact, the only thing that Niall is going to be calling is an ambulance, because he’s having seventeen different kinds of a heart attack, right now.

There is an awkward silence. Somewhere, there is the distant sound of sirens. Niall prays they’re for him.

“So,” Zayn says, eventually. “Still not your cat?”

Niall goes bright red, “Uh,” He says. His day is still terrible.

Zayn laughs. It is still one of the nicest laughs Niall has ever seen on a single person’s face. Whoever Zayn’s parents are, Niall is going to write them a formal letter of complaint, because dear _god,_ no human person should ever be allowed to look like that.

“It’s cool, man,” Zayn says, “I just feel like maybe she’s not going to get the Lord of the Rings reference, you know? She’s probably not finished the books yet, s’all.”

Niall tries not to expire on the spot that the incredibly attractive Doctor Zayn Malik heard him shouting about Dwimmerlaik’s to his cat. He also tries not to expire due to the incredibly attractive Doctor Zayn Malik’s understanding of aforementioned Dwimmerlaik reference.

“Yeah,” Niall says, channeling years of being the ‘sensible’ one out of Louis, Liam and Harry. Niall can be chill, “We’ve been putting off the Lord of the Rings series, you know. We’re trying to get through the X-Files, at the minute.”

Zayn’s whole face lights up. “Oh my _god,_ ” He says, “I, like, love The X-Files. I wanted to be Mulder when I grew up.”

Niall smiles, and without thinking about it says, “I could be your Scully, I think it could work.”

Niall freezes. He waits a beat, hoping that someone is going to appear with a camera and yell, “ _p_ _unk’d!_ ” at him. Or something about _Candid Camera_. Anything other than this being his real, actual life.  

There is every possibility that he has just propositioned someone with the nerdiest, most niché pickup line _ever_ . There is every possibility that Niall just used a _pick up_ line. His cat meows in his ear, and Niall shoves her off, desperate to focus on anything other than what he just said.

Somewhere, out there, Louis Tomlinson just got intolerably happy without fully understanding why.

“Um,” Zayn says, blinking. His lips are parted slightly in shock.

“I have to go to work,” Niall says, half running down the road. “Please, um. Please pretend you didn’t hear that. In fact, don’t even look at me,” He calls, over his shoulder.

He has the horrifying feeling Zayn is looking at him.

*

“It could be worse,” Harry tells him, over a large slice of tiramisu that he insisted was necessary for nine forty five in the morning. Niall isn’t sure how he even acquired tiramisu. He’s not going to ask.

“How?” Niall asks. “How could anything possibly be worse?”

“Well, you could have got your pop culture references mixed up. That would be very embarrassing.”

Niall stares at Harry, who stares back, unblinking. Another mouthful of tiramisu is consumed. “You look like a frog,” Niall says, for want of anything else to say.

Harry shrugs. The movement jostles his hair, “I’ve been told,” He says, thoughtfully. “I think that if you’re going to resemble an animal, better a frog.”

“Better than _what_?” Niall asks, exasperated with this whole conversation.

“A scorpion. Or a snake. I’d be pretty sad if someone called me a snake.”

Niall squints at him, slumping lower in his chair. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Doing what? Here,” Harry says, “Try some tiramisu. It’ll make you feel better,” He holds out the spoon to Niall, who blinks at him for a few minutes before begrudgingly trying some.

It is surprisingly good tiramisu.

“He’s just so _attractive,_ ” Niall sighs sadly around his food.

“I know,” Harry pats him sympathetically on the hand, like an ancient aunt would do. Or a strange schoolteacher. “It’ll be okay,” Harry says, “Maybe he’ll walk into a wall and get short term amnesia.”

“Maybe,” Niall says, miserably.

He eats the rest of Harry’s tiramisu to feel better about his sad existence.

It is a measure of how sad Niall’s life is, that Harry doesn’t even properly complain.

*

“I know, mate,” Liam says, patting him consolingly on the hand as he shoves the trolley around Sainsbury’s.

“I don’t think you do,” Niall says, scowling. “No one understands the full extent of my pain.”

“You have a small cat that loves you and you embarrassed yourself in front of the hot vet,” Liam says, raising his eyebrows at Niall. Niall flaps his hands at him, watching in alarm as Liam continues to shove bag after bag of doritos in with the rest of his food shopping.  

“Liam,” Niall says, “I am seriously worried that you and Louis are going to die from lack of vegetables.”

Liam pulls a face, “At least that’s something you can, uh, _actually_ die from. Mate, I think you need to calm down, you know? You’re really not going to die from embarrassment.”

“I don’t think you understand,” This time it’s Niall’s turn to pull a face, “Liam. I, um, really don’t think you do. I was yelling about _Lord of the Rings_. I was yelling stuff at my _cat_ who was climbing on my _back_ in the _street_ about _Lord of the Rings_. Then, _then_ the hottest guy in the _world_ saw me and I said I wanted to be his _Scully_.”

There is not enough dramatic emphasis in the world that can convey the true depths of Niall’s suffering, but Niall is going to try anyway.

“Maybe he thought it was romantic,” Liam tells him, looking utterly unbothered by Niall’s complete breakdown in the snack aisle of Sainsbury’s. “People are, like, into weird things, mate. I mean, me and Louis -”

Niall slaps a hand over Liam’s mouth. “Please, _never_ finish the sentence of what weird things you and Louis are into. Never.”

Liam licks his palm and Niall pulls his hand away in disgust.

“So, this hot vet,” Liam asks, “He’s got loads of tattoos?”

“I guess,” Niall says, “He’s been mostly wearing long sleeves when I’ve seen him. Why?”

“Does he have dark hair and glasses? Kind of short and skinny?”

“If his conversation is just so you can mock me about how obviously I have a type, then, um,  I would like you to say _Louis_ twelve times fast and then never speak to me again.”

Liam laughs, “Nah, I was just wondering if the bloke standing at the end of the aisle could be your hot vet.”

Niall is _not_ turning around. This is not happening to him again. Niall is a stone wall. Niall is not going to look.

“‘M’serious, Nialler,” Liam pats him on the shoulder, awkwardly. Niall scowls.

“You’re taking the piss out of me. You want me to rise to your fake bait so that I turn around expecting to see the hottest guy in the world and all it’s going to be some, I dunno, Freddy Kruger looking fella.”

“Most of the time,” Liam concedes, laughing a little, “Not this time, though. Swear it’s not Freddy Kruger”

“If I turn around and he’s not standing at the end of this aisle, I’m gonna make you watch all of Star Trek’s Next Generation when we get back to yours. Fuck your weird love of The Original Series. I’m going to have Patrick Stewart’s gay bald babies.”

“You do that, Niall,” Liam says, “You fight Ian McKellen and you get your bald disabled man.”

“ _S_ _tar Trek_ Patrick Stewart, _not_ X-Men Patrick Stewart. The only X-Men film I continue to acknowledge is X-Men: First Class. Anyway, I could never fight Ian McKellen. Is is an international treasure. No, he is a _galactic_ treasure.”

“Why don’t you just turn around?” Liam says, eyebrows raised.

“ _E_ _very episode_ ,” Niall warns him, finger pointing at Liam, accusingly.

Niall turns around.

*

There is, perhaps, some glorious day in Niall’s future when he doesn’t want the ground to grow teeth and eat him up whole. Or, fuck the ground, Niall would accept death by _Triffid_ at this point. He’s totally ready.

Doctor Zayn Malik is not at the end of the aisle.

Doctor Zayn Malik is approximately a metre away from Niall.

“Oh my god,” Niall mutters. Liam pats him on the shoulder again. When Niall figures out how to move his feet, he’s going to punch him.

Hard.

In the _face_.

“Hottest guy in the world?” Zayn asks. He looks amused.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Niall says, again. It is possible no other sentence will ever come out of his mouth.

Zayn runs a hand through his hair, and laughs. “I mean, I’m pretty honoured, like. Especially knowing that you’re comparing me to the likes of Jean-Luc Picard.”

Niall is so red that he could probably be used as a siren for a fire engine. Maybe he could be a warning sign. Perhaps he’s mutating, and his power is to be the reddest human alive.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Liam says, delightedly. Niall regains some control of his limbs and elbows him.

“I _hate_ you,” He hisses to Liam. To Zayn he says, “Please don’t hold my love of Patrick Stewart against me. I can’t believe that’s something I just had to say. But, _please_.”

Zayn holds up both hands. “I would _never,_ ” He says, pretty solemnly for someone who heard the phrase _Patrick Stewart’s gay bald babies_ not so long ago, “I, like, grew up with Star Trek.”

“That’s cool,” Niall says, faintly.

“So, um,” Zayn runs a hand through his hair again, then pushes up his glasses, nervously. “You think I’m hot, right?”

Niall screws his eyes shut. “If I answer will you walk away and never seek me out again?” He says.

“Depends what you answer.”

“I think you are unfairly attractive,” Niall says, eyes still screwed shut.

There is an agonising, painful silence for far too many seconds. Before, Niall had been foolish, Niall had been unable to see how silence could physically hurt him. Now, as he stands with his eyes screwed shut in the middle of the Sainsbury’s snack aisle, Niall gets it.

Slowly, sadly, he opens his eyes.

Zayn is still standing there, watching him, a quiet, pleased kind of smile on his face. “So,” He says, “Wanna go get coffee some time? See, the truth is out there. I’m sort of looking for someone to find it with.”

“That was so cheesy,” Niall says, but he's grinning, now. Entirely unintentionally, he finds himself bouncing forwards onto the balls of his feet. “I'll let you get away with it, though."

"Oh?" Zayn asks, eyebrows raising.

"Yeah," Niall tells him, "I kind of want to watch all one hundred and thirty point five hours of The Next Generation with you. And my cat.”

Zayn smirks, “I was always kind of a Captain Kirk guy, though.”

This brings Niall back down onto the flat of his feet.

He thinks about this for a long time, “Well," He sighs, "I suppose it would be too much of the world if you were  _entirely_ perfect, I guess."

"I'm sorry," Zayn tells him. He looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh. "Are we still on for that coffee, though?"

"I guess so, Mulder," Niall tells him. 

Zayn’s smile is pretty big when he answers, “Just give me a time, Scully,” He replies.

There is a small possibility that Niall might have been over reacting all those times he thought his life was the worst thing ever. Just a slight one.

*

“I told you, Niall,” Louis says, over the phone to him a couple of months later, “Some things are just meant to be.”

“Yeah, I guess you did, ” Niall agrees, running his hand over his cat’s fur as she purrs, loudly.

“ _Shh_ ,” Zayn says, elbowing him under the ribs. The movement makes the cat meow slightly in protest, due to the fact that she’s seated on Zayn’s lap. “This is the _best bit_. The, like, level of creativity that went into designing these costumes, you know? And -”

“Lou?” Niall says, laughing, “M’gonna have to call you back.”

He hangs up, looks very intently at Zayn and the cat, and then says, “ _Je t'aime_.”

Zayn’s eyes get very watery. The cat starts purring.

It appears, that after all this time, Niall has finally started to get somewhere with the French. 

**Author's Note:**

> Because I am a Massive Nerd, here's a list of all sci-fi/fantasy/nerdy references in this fic:  
> \- BBC's _Doctor Who_. Talking about New Who, because it's what I grew up on. The specific episodes I'm referencing are _New Earth_ and _Gridlock_ because they feature the Cat People. (Seriously, how did they evolve?)  
>  \- _Alien_ , 1979.  
> \- _Harry Potter_  
>  \- _The Return of the King_ \- J.R.R Tolkien. (That's the Lord of the Rings book that, "Begone foul Dwimmerlaik" is a quote from.)  
>  \- _The X-Files_  
>  \- _Nightmare on Elm Street_ (Please note, I'm referencing the original film. The remake's Freddy Kruger wasn't nearly as terrifying.)  
>  \- _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ (Also to a lesser extent, The Original Series, but I'm a TNG girl through and through. Jean-Luc Picard is the love of my life.)  
>  \- _The X-Men_  
>  \- _Day of the Triffids_
> 
> If anyone's wondering, they call the cat Alien. Also, if any of the French is wrong I'm very, very sorry. Please, instantly correct me for my attrocities. If anyone's wondering, Niall says, "Fuck off" in Spanish and, "Fuck off", "This is bullshit", "I have to get to work, now" and "I love you" in French. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and if you have anything else you wanna say then you can hmu on tumblr @[eiqhties](http://eiqhties.tumblr.com)


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